Shock of it All
by 2ofthesame
Summary: Have you ever had to face the fact that you will not live forever? That you could drop at any moment like a fly?
1. Bus Rides and Dancing Angels

AN: This is my second story. I have the first three chapters written and a great deal of a fourth. I'm just not sure if I want to leave it at the third chapter or not. So I'll put up the first three chapters and then see how the reviews go.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the charaters in the story. )

The rain made the bus ride back from sectionals horrible. Rain, lightning and thunder… The shrill beep of different weather watches and warnings came over the radio speakers every 30 minutes or so. Even though we were happy we had won we all of us did different things to keep ourselves busy so we didn't think about what may happen if these storms unleashed their full furry.

"The angels are river dancing." Brittany told me when I sit down in the seat behind her.

I gave her the same look I usually gave her when Brittany said one of her usual insane remarks. "That's nice…" I replied, covering myself up with a blanket hoping to get some sleep on the trip back.

"That's why it's lightening outside. They are dancing and every time they stomp their feet it makes sparks."

"Really?" I closed my eyes.

"I like the lightening."

"Well maybe they are having a dancing competition?" I asked. "That's why it's storming so much?"

"I think you're right." Brittany said.

"Maybe…" I said, pausing only for a yawn. "They held their competition because they knew we would be heading home tonight and you would be able to watch the show?"

"I like that idea…" Brittany said softly. "I used to sit up on the roof of my house watching the lightening, but my dad said I had to stop. The angels got careless and didn't watch where their sparks were going."

"It's a good thing… We wouldn't have your superb dancing skills if you got hurt."

"I don't know what superb means."

"It means excellent… Wonderful… Best of the best." I mumbled.

"Thank you, Rachel." She said softly.

I drifted off to sleep. The next morning I woke up when the bus came to a halt.

"We're about 2 hours out. So no more stops from here on. Now's the time to get out and stretch, get something to eat."

I stood up and tossed the blanket over the back of the seat. I stretched for a moment taking my time to leave the bus. I noticed Brittany was still leaning against the window her eyes half open.

I shook Brittany's shoulder. "Brittany… Aren't you hungry?"

I knew the girl had a huge appetite for her small size. She never resisted a chance to eat. Brittany's head rolled to one side in an unnatural way.

"Brittany?" I said, a little louder. Brittany fell into the seat when I shook her harder.

I felt her face, it was ice cold. I leaned down close to her mouth. I was sure it was just the way she slept. Had to be… Right? There was nothing. I put my fingers on her neck and felt around, not sure what exactly I was feeling for. I felt nothing.

I bolted from the bus.

"Mr. Shue!" I yelled. I ran as fast as I could to the group as they walked away from the bus. In my panic I fell twice, skinning my knees. "There's something wrong with Brittany!"

"I tried to wake her up and she won't wake up. I don't think she's breathing…"

Mr. Shue ran back toward the bus.

"What did you do to Brittany?" Santana asked, getting into my face.

"Nothing. I just tried waking her up…"

Santana pushed away from me. Mr. Shue came out of the bus carrying Brittany and laid her on the asphalt.

"Brittany?" Mr. Shue called out her name, shaking her head a little.

Our little group gathered around as Mr. Shue checked to see if Brittany was breathing or if she had a pulse.

"Someone call 911." Mr. Shue ordered.

We all looked around at each other.

"Does anyone have a fucking phone?" Santana asked.

I bolted for the store without thinking about going back and grabbing my cell from the bus. I reached the payphone and dialed the numbers for emergency services. I gave the operator all the information I knew. Brittany S. Peirce. 17 years old. She wouldn't wake up, not breathing, no pulse. I didn't know where we were, but I was able to tell the woman the name of the truck stop we were at.

I probably wasn't supposed to hang up, but I did. My friend was laying on the cold asphalt in an unknown condition. When I returned Mr. Shue was doing CPR on Brittany. All I could do was stand there and watch.

"Did she get hurt last night?" Puck asked his eyes full of worry.

That's when I realized that Brittany had huge purple bruises on the side of her face that was leaning against the window. Also her forearm and legs had the same bruises. Other than the bruises I noticed that she was extremely pale, a lot more than she normally was.

The ambulance arrived after only five minutes but it seemed like forever to me, personally. Three men got out each holding different kinds of equipment. One looked at Brittany's bruises and pointed them out to another. The first one shook his head. The second took out a small flash light. He put the flashlight to Brittany's eyes and shook his head.

"Blown…" I heard one say.

The three men stood to the side and whispered softly enough that I couldn't hear them.

"What are you doing?" Mr. Shue said. "Do something!"

"I'm sorry but…" One of the men started, I didn't pay enough attention to find out.

I heard Mr. Shue say something about Brittany's age and how does a girl that young and healthy just… Die.

Die? I looked up at Mr. Shue yelling at the three men.

Why was the word die being used?

Who died?

No… He said die as in dye. Like what you do with colors. That's what had to be what happened. Whatever had to have happened, it was something to deal with colors dying colors.

Hair?

Cloths?

Kids our age don't just… Die.

Right?

No… Kids our ages died all the time. They had sicknesses. Cystic Fibrosis, cancers, AIDS… They had treatments and they fought until they couldn't fight anymore. They died in hospitals, surrounded by family and friends. They had SICKNESSES. There was always warnings and signs. They don't just drop like flies for no reason at all. Healthy one moment while looking at the lightning flashes… Dead by sunrise. That's for old people like my Aunt Greta. She was 90 years old, fell asleep one night and just… Didn't wake up.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by Santana.

"You…"

I snapped my head up. Santana was in my face her finger just inches from my face. I opened my mouth and shook my head. I couldn't say anything.

Why would I hurt Brittany? She was kind. No… Brittany IS the nicest person on the face of the planet. She IS sweet and innocent. She SEES the world with her own brand of insanity. Brittany MAKES the world better, why would I do anything too her? If anything, I would trade her places. The world didn't need another singer… The world needed more people like Brittany in it.

Santana pushed me hard and I fell back landing on my backside. I just sit there in shock. Maybe it is my fault? I was behind her on the bus. Why didn't I hear anything unusual? Why didn't I help her? I should have taken CPR classes with my dads. I could have saved her life.

I wracked my brain trying to remember if I had heard anything unusual during the night.

No! I told myself. Stop thinking this way. Brittany is just faking it. Any second now she will wake up and it will all be a horrible practical joke.

I just sit on the cold asphalt staring at Brittany laying just a few yards away. Her eyes still half open looking at nothing really.

Any second now…


	2. Settles In

(AN: I would like to point out that grammar and other things maybe a little off her. Some will be human error, other's will be my way of trying to show the shock that Rachel goes through at Brittany's sudden death. Please be easy with me on grammar and other errors. Also, thier is time skips. This is due to the way time just seems to slip and you lose track of it when you're in a deep shock. I don't hate Brittany, she's my second favorite charater but she was the only one I could use that would have the effects that I wanted.

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own it. If I did, stuff like this would NEVER happen.))

"I swear… If you had anything to do with this…" I heard Santana's voice though the fog of my shock. "I will kill you myself."

Santana grabbed my chin and forced me to look at her rather than stare at Brittany. I could feel her nails digging into my chin. I didn't make a move to stop her.

"Do you hear me you little bitch?" Santana whispered in my face. "I. Will. End. You."

I didn't reply. I just stared at Santana. All my brain could think was how great of an actress Santana was. Maybe she didn't know about Brittany's joke? You couldn't fake that performance.

"Santana, stop." I heard Quinn say. "Rachel wouldn't hurt Brittany."

Santana released my chin and walked away. I just stared at the ground.

I prayed that God would take me instead. Just in case Brittany had…

No… I wasn't going to say that word. Just in case Brittany wasn't playing a joke.

Yes, that sounds much better. Much less final. The reasons behind this not being a practical joke were way more numerous.

I was one in a million, right?

There are over six billion people on this planet. If I was one in a million I wasn't as unique as I thought. There was only one Brittany. One and only. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Best dancer you will ever lay eyes on. I didn't want to be in a world that didn't have her brand of insanity.

My brain did the math. Six billion humans lived on the planet at the moment. There was one thousand millions in a billion. That meant one thousand people just like me walked this planet. No… I have to multiply by six. Six thousand people like me, if I was one in a million. And only one, single solitary Brittany. I was replaceable.

Exposable. No that's not the word… Expendable. Yes, I was expendable. Able to be tossed away.

Dispensable.

Superfluous.

Unessential.

Unneeded.

I was snapped out of my rambling thoughts by a paramedic walking past me. I watched as they put a blanket over Brittany, covering her face.

There was a small voice inside of me that wanted to tell them to uncover her face. How could she breathe with her face covered? This being a stupid joke and all.

Any time now, Brittany. No, right now is the time to wake up and say "GOTCHA!"

If you don't… You are going to be in a mess load of trouble when you do. The longer you keep this going the more trouble you'll get in.

OH! I realized why Brittany hadn't told us it was a joke. She realized how much trouble she's going to get into and now she was scared. Brittany knew she had taken her practical joke too far.

If you wake up now… We swear we won't be mad at you. I'll keep Santana away long enough you can run behind Puck and Lauren. We'll breathe a sigh of relief and then go home realizing now how great of an actress you really are. You'll always have my respect. You'll see how much our group cares for you. Just get up now… Please?

I hugged my knees close to my body. Deep in my heart I knew it wasn't a joke. Brittany wasn't a good actress. They weren't talking about color dyes. And kids our age did drop dead at the drop of a hat.

Before I could stop it I remember that earlier that year the news mentioned something about a couple of basketball players who had heart attacks and just died right their on the courts. No signs and symptoms. Just died.

I shook my head to get rid of those thoughts. That stuff happened didn't happen here. That happened to nameless and faceless kids in some other places.

Kids I KNEW didn't drop down dead. That stuff just didn't happen.

Everyone was sitting on the ground around me. Santana cried softly to herself. When Quinn put a hand on her shoulder she pushed it away. Quinn hugged herself.

We were alone in our shock. Even Lauren looked like she was in shock. The girl that was as tough as they come, would make Santana cower in fear. Lauren Zizies had tears in her eyes and looked like a scared little girl.

Fear and shock registered in everyone's eyes. No one comforted anyone else. We were together yet alone in this madness. The ones you were supposed to count on the most were the first ones to abandon you when they were involved in the same world of confusion and shock.

Stop thinking that way… I thought to myself. This isn't about you! You just talked about stupid angels and river dancing with her. It's not like she was your best friend. You just had a few conversations. You paid her to use her personality to raise your status on the social ladder. You could hardly call her a friend.

I looked at my friends sitting with me on that ice cold asphalt. We were all alone in a group of people. Suddenly that saying made perfect sense. I was surrounded by 12… No, 11 of my closest friends. And I had never felt so alone in my life.

"Are you Rachel?" Someone asked. I jumped out of my thoughts.

I looked up at the woman who had asked me the question.

When did the police get here?

I looked around again. There were several police cars surrounding us. Two were near the bus. I could see a couple of officers actually on the bus. How long had I been sitting there thinking to myself?

I pushed my hair out of my face, realizing that my hair was damp and I had water dripping off my hair. When did it start raining? I pulled the blanket around my shoulders tighter, wondering where the blanket had come from.

I looked back at the officer and nodded. I stood up, thinking I should just go to the bus and grab my jacket, I was shivering so hard now my teeth were sore because how hard they were chattering. Then I remember that Brittany had just… I still couldn't get myself to say that one single word. I just couldn't go on that bus. It was defiled and contaminated. I had other coats and cloths at home. I could always get a new iPod or music books. Everything on that bus was infected now, there was no way I was going to touch any of it ever again.

I looked at my hands. They had touched Brittany, when I tried to wake her up. They felt greasy and gross. I clinched my fists tightly, trying to make sure not to touch anything and infect it as well.

I had never been a germaphobe. There was just something about it all. It wasn't about germs or microbs. It felt more like a curse. If I touched something I would be spreading the curse.

"Do you think you can come with me? To answer a few questions?" The police woman asked kindly, pulling me out of my thoughts once more.

I looked back around me. Various members of our group were talking to other officers. I nodded and stood up. The officer led me back to the open ambulance, which I set down at the end of.

"You were the last person to talk to her?" The officer asked.

I nodded. I stopped myself suddenly. To confirm that I was just confirming that Brittany was dead. The die was die and not dye.

"Do you want to tell me what you were talking about?"

I shook my head. That was personal, between me and Brittany. It was something only we shared. If and that was a big if Brittany was gone that was something I could cherish. To share that would taint the moment.

"It's alright…" The woman said softly.

There was something off about the woman. Something that made me want to just lock myself up and ignore her. It wasn't that she was mean or ugly. She was very pretty. The officer was obviously of mixed race. She was lighter than Mercedes but not as light as me. Darker than Santana.

She had dark freckles on her nose and cheeks. The idea that if you could somehow combined all of the genes of the girls in the group that the resulting person would be the lady standing in front of me.

"Rachel?"

I looked at the officer. She had a bottle of saline water in one hand. "I'm going to wash off your knees. You scraped them up pretty good."

I looked at my knees. I hadn't noticed them. There was dried blood covering my knees and legs.

I just nodded. The officer worked on my legs for a second.

Mr. Shue pulled the woman to the side for just a moment. The officer put the gauze she was using on the ambulance floor to talk to him. I stared at the gauze. The blood on it was dark red, almost brown. Then I noticed the stinging coming from my scraped knees.

At least you can still bleed, Rachel… I told myself. I shook the thought that Brittany will never feel the sting another skinned knee. You'll get to go on and do that pathetic attempt of what you call dancing.

I shook the voice inside my head away. That wasn't the way to think… This could still be one of Brittany's poor attempts at a joke.

I heard Mr. Shue explain to the officer.

"She was raised by two gay men. She's not really had a woman in her life, you may get her to open up if you attempted to have a male talk to her."

I wanted to yell at Mr. Shue. The officer's gender had nothing to do with why I didn't want to talk to the woman. Couldn't I just flat out didn't want to talk? What's so wrong with that?

I watched the officer walk away and talk to one of the paramedics.

Together they walked back to me.

"Rachel?" The man said. "My name is Robert."

Robert this time took his turn at cleaning up my knees. By the sound of his voice he sounded gay. He reminded me of my Daddy in some ways. He too was black with green eyes. Even though I didn't want to, I felt myself relax a little.

"River dancing." I said suddenly.

"Excuse me?" Robert asked.

I looked at the officer. "We talked about River Dancing. The lightening, Brittany said the angels were River Dancing. Every time they stomped their feet it made sparks."

"Did she say anything about just not feeling right?"

I shook my head. "No. We talked about the angels holding a dancing competition because they knew she would be where she could see it the best. I drifted off to sleep after that."

"Thank you."

The officer turned to walk away. "Ma'am?"

The officer turned to face me. As much as I didn't want to ask and get the answer I was dreading there was something inside me that needed to know for sure. "Brittany isn't pulling a practical joke is she?"

The officer's face softened. "I'm sorry… No she's not."

I just nodded. Part of me knew I should probably cry now. But I still felt just way too numb to do it.

"Can I have something to wash my hands with? I touched her…" I looked at my hands which were still clinched in fists.

Neither the police woman nor Robert looked at me like I was weird. They seemed to understand exactly what I meant. It had nothing to do with Brittany herself. I loved Brittany. It was the feeling that I had touched death itself and I could feel it crawling on the palms of my hands.

Robert handed me several packages of alcohol wipes. I tore into the first one and wiped every micrometer or my right hand until the first wipe dried. Then I opened the second one and started on my left hand, making sure that I didn't miss a single spot. The alcohol dried, leaving my hands feeling dry and feeling like leather, but they didn't feel greasy any longer.

I love looking at my hands closely to see if maybe I had missed a spot when I heard a familiar voice say my name.

I saw my Daddy first. He was taller and pretty much surfing through a crowed of white people.

"Daddy!" I said. I pushed my way off the ambulance and ran toward him as fast as I could, almost tripping.

Dad was right next to him. I ran into their arms, happy as I ever thought I would be to see them. It was then and only then that I started crying. I cried for all I was worth into my Daddy's shirt with my Dad patting my back.

"It's alright Baby Girl. It's alright…" Daddy repeated over and over.

After a few minutes of crying, maybe a few hours… I don't really know. I did realize that a number of our parents were there. Mercedes, Quinn and Tina were all leaning on their mothers.

Ms. Puckerman was leaning on Noah's arm. It was hard to tell who was comforting how there. Santana was holding tightly to her stepmother while Dr. Lopez hugged both of them. Mrs. Evens was standing next to Sam, both of Mikes parents were standing near Tina and her mother. Mr. Zizes was hugging Lauren. Mr. and Mrs. Abrams were standing next to Artie and his chair.

There was only one set of parents missing. I wanted to see them, but I didn't.

There was a flash of red hair and I realized I didn't have much of a choice in the matter. I was about to see a parent's worst nightmare come true for Mrs. Pierce. The worst day in the woman's life was about to play out before my eyes.

All these parents here, they still had their children. My heart broke for Mrs. Pierce and even more so as I saw Mr. Peirce behind her. Mrs. Peirce put her hand on her face. My dads and I watched as the police officers explained to them that their beautiful, wonderful daughter was lying on the asphalt covered by a sheet.

I looked back toward the bus and that's when I realized that Brittany's sheet covered body wasn't there any longer. When did they move it? How out of it could I possibly be? Where did they take Brittany?

The sound of Mrs. Peirce's shock, crying and questioning brought me out of my thoughts once more.

Their shock and reaction only made my sense of loss dig deeper into my heart. The shock was starting to wear off slowly like fog in the morning time and was being slowly replaced by guilt. I really would rather it had been me. I would have hated seeing my fathers' reaction, but honestly… I wouldn't have had to. I would be dead. I wouldn't be here watching the Peirce family fall apart and all the other parents' faces as they picture what would happen if this was truly their nightmare.

For the first time in my life, I doubted my faith in God. What kind of God would take someone like Brittany who made the world worth living? And leave a spoiled rotten little brat behind like me? I was selfish, self-centered… And Brittany? She was naive and thoughtful. Brittany was a simple girl that took joys in the simple things. I was greedy and kept wanting more and more.

Brittany took the time to look at the lightening. To understand it in her whole unique way. I had to have an iPod, a blanket and sleep and used those things to drown it out. I only moved to the beat. Brittany danced, the beat moved her…

(AN2: If anyone wants is wondering, in my mind's eye I see Reba McEntire as Brittany's mother. I think the reaction between the two would be off the charts funny. Please read and review so I know if I should keep the story going beyond chap. three or just end it there.)


	3. Next Steps

AN: This is the last main chapter of this part of the story. My goal is to express the processes and the shock of a tradegy such as this and I feel I have done so and would feel fine leaving the story as it is. I have written stuff that continues on with the healing and moving on parts. It is a strong Pezberry friendship and continues directly after the end. Let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: I don't own it.. If I did, Shelby would be there forever and they would NEVER graduate. But I don't and they will... ))

The next couple of days were a real blur. The school let us miss the last five days of the school year. I spent most of it in my room unable to bring myself to deal with the horrible guilt I felt. All these what if's playing around in my head over and over again.

What if I just talked to her a little more? Would I have been able to tell something was wrong with her? If I had just took the moment to stop thinking about my need to escape the lightening… I should have at the very least set myself up and took a moment to try and see the lightening the way Brittany did. We had the moment to share something together and I blew it.

Day three I sit on my bed staring at the floor. My dads said that we were going to the Peirce's house to express our condolences toward them. It was only right. I needed to do that and I wasn't getting out of it. To not show up would be rude.

"It's time to go, Rachel…" Daddy said, softly but firmly from the hallway.

I stood up and fallowed my dads downstairs and into the car.

I looked at the sky for a moment. For the first time in weeks there were clear blue skies. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky as far as the eye could see. It was warmer, but I still couldn't get the chill out of my bones that had been there for over 72 hours. Back when this weird nightmare started.

I imagined that Brittany was up there in Heaven, convincing God that today of all days it needed to be a clear day. People were coming to her parents' home and they didn't need all that mud being tracked through the house. At least that was the excuse my brain made up. Knowing Brittany she would say something about the fact that if it was clear then butterflies would take messages to the mice in the basement to take out the trash or something equally absurd.

We entered the Peirce home and I made sure to wipe my shoes really well, just in case.

I fallowed behind my dad as they hugged both of Brittany's parents and expressed how sorry they were.

Without meaning to do it, I glared at them. Maybe they were sorry, but everyone knew that our parents were thinking the same thing. We're just happy it was your child and not ours.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. That wasn't the way to think. My dad's weren't like that. At least that's not how they taught me to be.

"Rachel…" Mrs. Peirce said, softly. She wrapped me into a tight hug. "How are you, doing?"

I looked at Mrs. Peirce a little in shock. Why would she care about how I was feeling? I was just a semi-friend of Brittany's… Brittany was her daughter.

"Lost…" I answered honestly. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

It was a lame reply, but my brain refused to work for me at the moment.

"There is actually." Mrs. Peirce said. "I would enjoy it if you would come and talk to me alone for a minute. Do you mind, Leroy?"

"No of course not… I'm sure Rachel could use it."

Dad gave me a gentle push toward Mrs. Peirce. I fallowed Brittany's mother into a large office looking room. I sit in a large chair next to a desk.

"I'm taking all of Brittany's friends aside and talking to them. I hope you don't mind."

"No, Ma'am…" I replied.

I looked at my hands. "I'm not sure if I can provide much help, Mrs. Peirce. Brittany and I were never all that close."

"Call me Susan… Mrs. Peirce is my mother-in-law." Susan sat in the chair across from me. "And… I think you would be surprised on how much Brittany thought of you…"

I looked up as Susan handed me an envelope with my name on it. "I've been looking through some of Brittany's diaries the last few days… For some reason, I felt like I needed to type these up and give them too each of her friends that she mentioned. It has helped to put some… Sense to her nonsense, I'm sure you know what I mean?"

I smiled my first real smile in nearly four days. "Yes. I think I know what you're referring to."

"I asked your dads to bring you over because there is something else I wanted to talk to you about."

Suddenly my daddy's telling me I had to come here today made a little more sense than it had. Susan had asked me to show up and talk to her.

"You were the last one to actually talk to Brittany… If you don't mind, I would love it if you can tell me what those last moments were like? Was she happy?"

I nodded. "Oh yes! I think she was." I answered, eagerly.

I told Susan about our last conversation word for word. The whole thing had played many times over and over in my head. I had analyzed every word, sentence… Everything. For the most part I wanted to make sure and see if there was anything that could have clued me into the events that were about to unfold. Another, more important reason was the fact I didn't want to forget any second of it. As I relayed the story to Susan I could slowly feel my bones start to warm up, slowly the cold ebbed away. It didn't go away fully, but the cold weight on them started to lift little by little.

"Rachel." Susan said softly, putting a hand on my knee. "You know how much Brittany loved dancing?"

"Of course. She was the best dancer I ever knew. I just wish I had half the talent as she did."

"Well… When someone she looked up too, like she did you, tells her that she was the best of the best… I would like to think that made her happier than anything else you could have said. Don't you?"

"Brittany looked up to me?" I asked.

"Yes. She said you had the best voice she ever heard. She liked the songs you sang better than all the other's out there. I think she called you a short loud Jewish little angel. With a voice like yours you had to be an angel of some kind."

"Thank you…" I replied, crying again.

"No… Thank you. You made her last moments happy, that's all I could ever ask for." Susan paused. "Do you want to know what happened, why Brittany died?"

"Is that something for me to know?" I asked. Of course I was curious. But that seemed like information that would be privet.

"It's called a Duret Haemomorrage. A blood vessel burst open in her brainstem. If she was awake she might have had a headache for a few seconds then she lost consciousness. There was nothing you or anyone could have done. The doctors said she was gone before she had time to realize she was in pain."

"What caused it?" I asked.

"It could have been something she was born with. Maybe she hit her head riding those silly motorcycles or while she was dancing. There's no way to know."

I just nodded.

Susan squeezed my knee. "Don't blame yourself. There was no way you could have done anything. No one could have. Alright?"

Again all I could do is nod.

Susan released my knee and sit back. "Now… Have you thought about what songs you and your friends would like to sing at the funeral?"

"I'm sorry but I don't think any of us would be up for preforming…" I started.

"Nonsense, Rachel. This is to celebrate her life. It wouldn't be the same if you didn't sing something."

"I'll think about it." I whispered.

Susan stood up. "Good, I expect nothing but the best."

I stood up as well. "Susan? How are you handling this so calmly?"

Susan thought for a moment. "Honestly? I'm not… I will soon. After everything calms down. Right now I just can't think about everything. I just have to keep on moving."

I fallowed Susan out of the room. We stayed for a little while longer and went home.

At first there was no way that I was going to sing anything at that funeral. Then after calming down, there was no way I couldn't. Brittany would expect nothing less.

Now… I just had to go through my extensive music library to find the perfect song. When that didn't happen, I did a lyrics search for "Goodbye" and "Friend."

I clicked on the first song that came up. A song from 1998 by the group Spice Girls called, "Goodbye My Friend." I listened to the words closely they seemed to fit.

Just then I got a text message from Quinn.

"**Brit's mom wants a song if you're in my house at 4" **The message said.

I was at Quinn's house at 3:55. We decided that the boys would do their own songs and we girls would do ours.

Several song ideas were tossed around before I decided to open my mouth. I found the Spice Girl's song easily on YouTube. The girls listened to it and after it was done, no one said a word for a good long time. I assumed that no one liked it so I shut the laptop.

"I think it fits…" Tina said softly, looking around the room. There were nods among the girls.

There was only one person who was against it.

"No… We do that song. But then we do it Brit's way." Santana said. "The only way Brit would have it. She wouldn't want this sappy shit. We do this fully Brittany style."

Santana opened the laptop, looked for a moment or two. We all sit listening to the second song.

"Is that appropriate?" Quinn asked, once the song was finished.

"Who gives a shit?" Santana said. "It's Brittany. What about her was ever appropriate?"

Even I had to admit that Santana was right on that part. We spent the rest of the afternoon and all of the next day working on the two songs we were going to sing for Brittany. By the time Monday rolled around, we were as ready as we ever could be given the situation.

The church was literally packed as full as it could have been. So many people had been touched by Brittany. Family, Friends, people I didn't recognize. I had expected Mr. Shue to come, but I hadn't expected Coach Sylvester to show up. The fearsome cheerleading coach didn't look so scary anymore. She looked as sad and upset that such a wonderful person was gone as we were.

The boys sang their song, The Dance by Garth Brooks. It was sad, but fit and the boys did well at it. Then it was our turn and we stood at the front of the church.

This time, Santana was our leader. We put her in full control over the whole thing.

"Um…" She said, standing in front of the overly packed church. "We actually decided that there would be two songs. The second one… We know the second song will shock some of ya'll… But we decided that this was more for Brits than anything. It was her favorite song. So… Yeah… If your offended, sorry or whatever."

I looked at Quinn, who looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

The first song went off without a hitch. We had worked out all the problems. The second one, we had to sneak into the church to make sure we knew exactly how much room we had to do some of the chorography we added to the second song at the last moment.

We even took the extra steps to make sure our skirts matched as well as the blouses even though they were different colors. Of all the shows we were going to ever preform… I doubt that the one song we did for Brittany was ever going to be more important. It HAD to be perfect down to the movements. This time, it was more than just a performance, we were saying goodbye to our friend. Word could never express how much was riding on just this one song.

For all of us.

Santana nodded to the person in the back of the room who controlled the music.

The music started and Santana's clear calm voice filled the church.

"Made a wrong turn, once or twice. Dug my way out, blood and fire. Bad decision, that's alright. Welcome to my silly life…"

Up until that part the rest of us hung our heads and stayed still. Then started the carefully rehearsed arm movements as the music became livelier.

Quinn and I split the second verse. Santana came back and did the rapping part. Mercedes took over the last part of the chorus where the original artist, Pink, belts out the most important parts. It ended with us standing still once more and Santana singing the very last line.

We stood there for a few seconds after the song ended. Personally, I was waiting for God to strike me down for dropping several F-bombs in his holy place.

Then I heard a clap and dared to look up. Susan was standing in the front pew along with Mr. Peirce.

"Thank you! That is exactly what I wanted." I heard Susan say to Santana, hugging her tightly. Susan hugged and kissed each one of us, thanking each one of us.

Susan got back to Santana. Santana shook her head put her hands up in front of her.

"I'm sorry… I can't deal with this." Santana took off out of the front door of the church.

I went to chase after her and Quinn grabbed my arm. "Let her…"

I listened to Quinn and met up with my fathers.

"Interesting song choice." Daddy commented.

"How much trouble am I in?" I asked, solemnly.

"Did you think that was a right song?"

"For a church, no… For Brittany, there wasn't a better one. At least not one that I could come up with."

"We can't punish you for that then." Dad said.

I didn't reply because I spotted Santana walking slowly down the street. "Daddy, can you pull over please?"

Daddy did as I asked. I exited the car and poked my head back in. "I'm going to walk from here."

My dads nodded and I shut the car door.

"Santana!" I called out. I ran to catch up to her.

Santana stopped for a second, looked at me then started walking again.

"Please, just go away…" Santana said softly. I had never seen the girl so broken and sad.

"I can't do that…" I said, walking along side of her. "You shouldn't be alone, either."

Santana looked at me then shook her head. "Don't talk then. The last thing I want to hear is your voice."

I nodded. Instead of talking I just circled my arm into hers, linking our elbows. Together we walked back to Santana's house.

(AN2: Remember read and review. Tell me if you think I should write abount what happens next.)


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